Never perhaps in the history of our City had there been a corresponding period of such incessant activity and feverish excitement. Stimulated by their fears, the loyalist families began arrangements in early spring for their departure from the land of their birth (indeed a company of six hundred, including women and children, had already gone the preceding fall) destined mainly for Port Roseway, in Nova Scotia, where they ultimately formed their principal settlement, and built the large town of Shelburne. Those intending to remove were required to enter their name, the number in their family, &c., at the Adjutant-General's Office, that due provision might be made for their passage. They flocked into the City in such numbers from within the British lines (and many from within our lines also) that often during that season there were not houses enough to shelter them. Many occupied huts made by stretching canvass from the ruined walls of the burnt districts. They banded together for removing, and had their respective headquarters, where they met to discuss and arrange their plans. The first considerable company, some five thousand, sailed on April 27th, and larger companies soon followed. Many held back, hoping for some act of grace on the part of our Legislature which would allow them to stay. But the public sentiment being opposed to it, and expressed in terms too strong to be disregarded, these at last had to yield to necessity, and find new homes. The mass of the loyalists went to Nova Scotia and Canada; others to the Island of Abaco, in the Bahamas; while not a few of the more distinguished or wealthy retired to England. The bitterness felt towards this class was to be deplored, but, in truth, the active part taken by many of them during the war against their country, and above all the untold outrages committed upon defenceless inhabitants by tories (the zealous and active loyalists), often in league with Indians, had kindled a resentment towards all loyalists alike that stifled every philanthrophic feeling. This exodus was going on when General Carleton, about the beginning of August, received his final orders for the evacuation of the City; but it took nearly four months more to complete it, as a large number of vessels were required to transport the immense crowds of refugees who left with their families and effects during that brief period. Hundreds of slaves (ours being then a slave State) were also induced to go to Novy Koshee, as they called it. Their masters could do little to hinder it, though a committee appointed by both governments to superintend all embarkations did something towards preventing slaves and other property belonging to our people from being carried away. Such negroes as had been found in a state of freedom, General Carleton held, had a right to leave if they chose to do so, and many probably got away under this pretext; but to provide against mistakes the name of each negro (with that of his former owner) was registered, and also such facts as would fix his value, in case compensation were allowed. In this, as in the whole ordering of the evacuation, which was more than the work of a day, General Carleton must have credit for humanity and a disposition to pursue a fair and honorable course, which, under the extraordinary difficulties of the situation, required rare tact and discretion. Of course he was blamed for much when he was not responsible (natural enough in those who suffered grievances), and especially for the great delay in giving up the City, which bore hard on virtuous citizens who had sacrificed opulence and ease at the shrine of liberty, and had now thrown themselves out of homes and business in the expectation of an early return to the City. Yet Carleton's fidelity to the various trusts committed to him, making one delay after another unavoidable, it may be doubted whether he could have surrendered the City at an earlier date.
Closing up the affairs of the army was truly a Herculean task. The shipment of the troops began early in the season. A portion of the army was disbanded to reduce it to a peace establishment pursuant to orders from England. Then there was the settlement of innumerable accounts, pertaining to every department, and the sale and disposal of surplus army property, as horses, wagons, harness and military stores, with several thousand cords of fire wood, which was sold off at half its cost. Even the prisonships were set up at auction. A sale of draft horses was begun, October 2d, at the Artillery Stables near St. Paul's church.
Auctions on private account were rife; daily, in every street, the red flag was seen hanging out. And it was alleged that a great deal of furniture was sold to which the venders had no good title; much of it being newly painted or otherwise disguised, that its proper owner might never know and reclaim it! We need not doubt it, for it seemed as if the refugees would strip the City of every portable article, even to the buildings, or the brick and lumber composing them; insomuch that the authorities, in formal orders, forbade the removal or demolition of any house till the right to do so was shown.
These irregularities, with the brag and bluster of the enraged tories, was enough to keep society in a broil. The uppermost themes were the evacuation, and the removal to Nova Scotia, or elsewhere. They were irritating topics, and gave rise to endless and hot discussions, in which tory vexed tory. While one maintained that Nova Scotia was a very Paradise, another denounced it as unfit for human beings to inhabit. Disappointed and chagrined at the issue of the war, they would curse the powers to whom they owed allegiance; as rebellious as those they called rebels. In other cases, the turn the war had taken had a magic effect upon their principles; once avowed loyalists, they suddenly became zealous patriots! It was a witty reply given by a tailor,—the tailor, in the olden time, we must premise, was often applied to, to rip up and turn a coat, when threadbare or faded. "How does business go on?" asked a friend. "Not very well," said he, "my customers have all learned to turn their own coats!" The shrewd whigs were not to be deceived by these sudden conversions. They drew the line nicely at a meeting held on Nov. 18th, at Cape's Tavern, in Broadway, (site of the Boreel Building), to arrange plans for evacuation day. Before touching their business, they "Resolved. That every person, whatever his political character may be, who hath remained in this City during the late contest, be requested to leave the room forthwith."
Society could not be very secure, when, as is stated, scarcely a night passed without a robbery; scarcely a morning came, but corpses were found upon the streets, the work of the assassin or midnight revel. Indeed at this juncture, there was much underlying apprehension in the minds of good citizens; the situation was unprecedented, men's passions had been wrought up to a fearful pitch, and who could foresee the outcome! Sensible of the danger, and with the approval of the commandant, a large number of citizens lately returned from exile, organized as a guard and patrolled the streets, on the night preceding evacuation day. The vigilance of these returned patriots, and the protection it afforded, added greatly to the public security at this threatening crisis.
A word as to the aspect of the City; sanitary rules being suspended, the public streets were in a most filthy condition. All the churches, except the Episcopal, the Methodist, and the Lutheran (spared to please the Hessians), had been converted into hospitals, prisons, barracks, riding-schools, or storehouses; the pews, and in some the galleries, torn out, the window-lights broken, and all foul and loathsome. Fences enclosing the churches and cemeteries had disappeared, and the very graves and tombs lay hidden by rubbish and filth! No public moneyed or charitable institutions, no insurance offices existed; trade was at the lowest ebb, education wholly neglected, the schools and college shut up! But the long-wished-for event, which was to light up this dark picture, and work a happy transformation, was at hand.
Finally, the day fixed upon for the evacuation, and for the triumphal entry of Washington and the American army, to take possession of the city, was Tuesday, the 25th of November. At an early hour, on that cold, but radiant morning, the whole population seemed to be abroad, making ready for the great gala day, regardless of a keen nor'wester. During the forenoon many delegations from the suburban districts began to arrive, to share in the public festivities, or to witness the exit of the foreign troops, and the entrance of the victorious Americans; while with the latter was expected a host of patriots, to re-occupy their desolate dwellings, from which they had been so long cruelly exiled; or otherwise, only to gaze upon the charred and blackened ruins of what was once their homes![1]
To guard against any disturbance which such an occasion might favor, in the interval between the laying down and the resumption of authority, and as rumors were afloat of an organized plot to plunder the town when the King's forces were withdrawn; the hour of noon had been set for the Royal troops to move, and by an understanding between the two commanders-in-chief, the Americans were to promptly advance and occupy the positions as the British vacated them; the latter, when ready to move, to send out an officer to notify our advance guard. There was no longer any antagonism between these, so recently hostile, forces; the plans for the evacuation, on the one part, and the occupation, on the other, being carried out in as orderly a manner, and to all appearance, with as friendly a spirit, as when, in time of peace, one guard relieves another at a military post.
Major Gen. Knox, a large, fine looking officer, had been appointed to command the American troops which were first to enter and occupy the city. With his forces, consisting of a corps of dragoons, under Capt. John Stakes, another of artillery, and several battalions of infantry, with a rear guard under Major John Burnet, Knox marched from McGown's Pass, Harlem, early in the morning, halting at the present junction of the Bowery and Third Avenue. Here he waited—meanwhile holding a friendly parley with the English officers, whose forces were also resting a little in advance of him—until about one o'clock in the afternoon. The British then receiving orders to move, took up their march, passed down the Bowery and Chatham street, and wheeling into Pearl, finally turned off to the river, and went on shipboard. The American forces under Gen. Knox, following on, proceeded through Chatham street, into and down Broadway, and took possession. As they advanced, greeted with happy faces and joyful acclamations by crowds of freemen who lined the streets, or fairer forms drawn to the windows and balconies by the beat of the American drums and the vociferous cheering, the march down Broadway to Cape's Tavern (on the site now of the Boreel Building), was indeed the triumphal march of conquerors!
Our troops having halted and taken their position opposite and below Cape's Tavern,[2] Gen. Knox quitted them, and heading a body of mounted citizens, lately returned from exile, and who had met by arrangement at the Bowling Green, each wearing in his hat a sprig of laurel, and on the left breast a Union cockade, made of black and white ribbon, rode up into the Bowery to receive their Excellencies General Washington and Governor George Clinton, who were at the Bull's Head Tavern (site of the Thalia Theatre), they having arrived at Day's Tavern, Harlem, on the 21st inst., the very day on which Carleton had drawn in his forces and abandoned the posts from Kingsbridge to McGown's Pass, inclusive.